Bonds Deeper Than Blood
by Dr FrankEinstein
Summary: Four children are born to a wealthy politician on an Imperial monastery world. They are protected from conscription by a prearranged deal with the planets chapter, the Brazen Minotaurs, but when he is betrayed and killed, the four are press-ganged into military service and their family bonds are cut. They're seperated, but their fates are entwined, and the universe is only so big.
1. Prologue

"For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the dark Age of Technology. He is the carrion lord of the Imperium, for whom a thousand souls die every day, for whom blood is drunk and flesh eaten. Human blood and human flesh – the stuff of which the Imperium is made.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. This is the tale of those times.

Forget the power of technology, science and common humanity. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for there is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods.

But the universe is a big place and, whatever happens, you will not be missed..."

Deep in the Segmentum Tempestus part of the galaxy, far from holy Terra, on a planet called Tauron, a woman screamed.

The man that tended to her called himself the Apothecary, and he laid a hand on her forehead, easing her back onto the operating bed. He jabbed a needle into her arm with a solemn expression and the pain fell from her like a discarded sheet.

"Don't stop," the Apothecary reminded her in his oddly calm and precise voice. "You still need to push."

The rest of the men present stood still and watched. Half of them she knew, her husband's loyal advisers and friends. They wore coats down to their knees that were lined with fur or gold thread and made of silk. They wore decorated hats, looking almost pretentious, but they smiled with feeling when she made eye contact with them. They were the ones she felt comfortable with. The other half of them wore simple robes, coloured according to rank, stretched over bodies that were unnaturally large and muscular to her. They reminded her of vultures and made the surgery room feel claustrophobic. They tutted her when she screamed at the pain. They had all been through the trials and accepted the implants and cybernetics that had altered their bodies beyond recognition. The pain of childbirth was trivial when compared to such a struggle and their hearts were unmoved, unlike the advisers, who consoled her and spoke comfortingly to soothe her. Behind her head an ancient machine beeped statically. The Apothecary studied it, then tapped it lightly when it flickered.

"Push harder." He commanded.

She kept pushing. Panic briefly overcame her as the injection wore off and pain began to surge back into her dulled system, but she forced herself through it. She let out a moan with a final big push, and then it was over.

The Apothecary held her precious child in his arms, cradling it gently as it began to cry.

"It's a boy." He said. Her husband, Olympus, stepped forward and the Apothecary handed the child over dutifully. He was beautiful. Wisps of golden hair already grew on his head and his skin was a healthy, smooth white, like in the painted portraits that adorned the walls of their home. OLympus smiled at that. The boy would have a comfortable life in their house, away from the troubles of the Imperium. The men in the room inspected the child and found him to be a fine specimen, showing their approval with very slight nods of their heads. The boy opened his eyes and peered up at his father. The child had blue eyes. Blue like his mother's.

"What will you call him?" The Apothecary asked.

"Alexander." Olympus said, his strong voice wavering with emotion. He looked at his wife for approval, though they had already decided on the name months ago.

"Yes. Yes." She replied, closing her eyes with exhaustion. "Alexander."

They took a moment to bask in the joy of the moment and shared a big smile. Olympus's big frame shuddered barely noticeably as tears brimmed on his eyes again and he hid his face from the robed men, unwilling to show his weakness. His advisers looked over the child with pride that was almost paternal. One of them, Dominic, a tall old man with a beard that came down to his chest, held Olympus's shoulder and congratulated him sincerely. He was an old family friend, and had already been chosen as the child's godfather before the child had even been conceived. He was Olympus's most trusted friend and ally in the politics of the Agora.

The Apothecary turned back to the mother. "The next child is ready," he said calmly. She lay back and accepted the second injection as she felt the next child beginning to fight it's way free.

The second child was also a boy, this time with big, almond eyes and chestnut hair, much like Olympus when he was younger. He was slighter of frame, but Dominic said that he had a wiry strength to him that was not obvious at first glance. They named him Quintus. The men present, those big men with their strange robes and grim faces, examined him and gave their silent approval like stern sergeants on a parade ground, though that likeness was closer to the truth than either Olympus or his wife, Amelia, would like to admit.

The last child came out silent. The men looked at each other and Olympus's forehead beaded with sweat as the limp thing was pulled out. Amelia wailed.

"Wh- what's wrong with it? Is it Tainted?" Amelia asked fearfully. The possibility of a Tainted child was a very real and constant threat, and the family had ordered a witch brought to be present for the births. The hag peered forward and inspected the small thing, wrinkling her nose against the spirits in case they came out and jumped into her instead.

The Apothecary shoved her out of the way with little ceremony. "It is not tainted, witch." The Apothecary administered a sharp, exact strike to the child's back. It's cry was a relief.

With the births over, Amelia closed her eyes and slipped into a restful sleep. Murmurs of discussion began between the advisers and Olympus was congratulated again, this time by all of his men. The men in the robes muttered thoughtfully to each other.

"I have never seen three children birthed all at once before, in all my years. She is a strong woman." Dominic said sagely.

Olympus grinned. "I know she is. She has a good heart."

The Apothecary tapped him on the back softly, making him turn around. He whispered something to Olympus that made him pale slightly. He ordered that his wife be awoken at once. The robed vultures frowned and leaned in. They hadn't expected anything more.

"There is another child." The Apothecary informed Amelia with a dark look. It was the first emotion any of the robed men from the monastery had shown and she noticed they now all shared it. A child that went undetected by the machines of the techmarines was a sign for worry. She could see that the librarian was the most worried. Sweat dripped off his nose.

"A fourth child." The librarian said quietly, and shook his head. "Where from?" Sick panic grew in her belly.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"We didn't detect a fourth child in the womb. It could have been hidden behind the life signature of another. Or placed there by..." The Apothecary trailed off. Everyone understood what he meant. "Either one bodes ill for the child. It could be crippled, or Tainted." The stress on the final word was too much for her.

"Get it out of me!" She shouted, feeling the thing writhe in her and suddenly desperate to get rid of it. Olympus looked away and the men shared glances that she couldn't understand.

"As you wish." The Apothecary said eventually. He injected her with the numbing drug.

The final boy came out with a struggle, and the witch screamed and recoiled as if a Daemon had clawed its way out of Amelia's womb.

"Kill it! Sent it away! Spawn of Chaos!" The witch screeched.

Olympus examined the boy, with its withered left arm and clubbed foot. It's face was different to the others. Unrelated. It seemed to sneer at him as it blinked and stared. Surely he could not have conceived such a monster. He waved his hand for his guards to take the child away.

The librarian came forward. "No, do not harm the child." He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to the child's forehead. Both figures froze.

Amelia asked the Apothecary what was happening but he shushed her without looking, his eyes fixed on the librarian and the boy. She noticed that all of the men from the monastery were staring at them too.

"Extraordinary." The librarian said slowly. His hand was suddenly forced back from the baby and he doubled over, clutching his stomach. The Apothecary was quickly by him.

"What? What is it?" Amelia asked, desperate to understand what was going on.

"His Warp signature is like nothing I have ever seen. He is powerful." The librarian said in wonder, studying his hand where it was scorched from contact with the boy's skin.

"Powerful! Hah, look at it! It's crippled. A waste of flesh." The witch cried. "This signature you talk about must simply be the sign of the Evil Spirits possessing it. It is lost. I will take it to Taygetus." Olympus's advisers nodded at this. Taygetus was where crippled babies were taken to die. It was an ancient tradition, and some storytellers even claimed it had originated on holy Terra itself, in a mythical land called Hellas. It seemed the best course of action to them and they eyed the librarian and his monastery comrades with fear and dislike when they protested.

"No. It will come to the Parthenon with me. Me and my brothers will take care of it." The librarian persisted. Static crackled in the air as the librarian and the witch stared each other down, their psychic powers warring. Another man stepped forward from the group of robed men, and spoke directly to the librarian. He wore a thick black cloak over his robe that fastened around his shoulders. It was fashioned from the pelt of a Tauronian black lion, the traditional mark of military authority amongst the men from the monastery.

"Codicier Atticus, we cannot accept the boy. The Codex dictates that only the finest specimens are to be chosen," the man said.

"He is strong in spirit, not in body. He will come with us," the librarian said with force.

"He cannot. You know the codex, brother. The child is a spawn of Chaos and must be treated as such. The primitive traditions of the people will serve us nicely." A couple of Olympus's advisers bristled at the insult but none of them would dare speak out against them. The man with the lion coat put his hand on the librarian's shoulder and his voice softened. "Let them take him, brother. It is for the best. The child would not survive the trials. You know this to be true."

"It is up to the father," the librarian said. "What is your decision, patrician?"

Olympus lifted his head out of his hands. He looked at the librarian. They would take the child to the Parthenon and teach him in the ways of the brother-marines. The ordeals the recruits faced there were hellish, even for a well-built man. Olympus knew that better than anything else. But the boy would not fit in there. It would be cruel to doom him to such ridicule and pain. No, it was better to save the child's suffering.

His eyes drifted over to the haggard witch. "Take the child to Taygetus. Ensure it dies swiftly, please. Grant me that mercy on my conscience."

The witch refused to touch the baby and squealed when it was held towards her, so one of Olympus's guards left his spear and carried it for her, departing the room a few paces behind. The librarian's eyes bored into Olympus with all the fury and madness that he had seen in the hag's black eyes. Eventually he bowed his head.

"Forgive me, patrician, but I must take my leave." The librarian stalked from the surgery, leaving Olympus gazing after him. He sighed inwardly. It was never good to make an enemy of a psyker, especially one that served in the the authority of the Emperor.

The man with the lion coat tipped his head to Olympus, his cheeks blooming red, but from embarrassment or anger Olympus couldn't tell.

"I apologise for the behaviour of the brothers. It is highly irregular," he said.

Olympus straightened himself. "I understand how psykers can be, captain. No harm done."

The captain made the sign of the Emperor. "May He guide us in all the things we do. Brothers! We are leaving." The robed men left the room.

Olympus wiped his brow on his sleeve. "I prayed that we would never have to deal with those people again," He said to Amelia.

"I know, I know. Maybe they'll leave us alone now?" His wife said hopefully.

"No, they'll be back." Olympus shook his head. "But we have more pressing matters to attend to now." He clapped his hands and the midwives came to take the children and his wife home.

Olympus walked the streets of Thessalon with Dominic, deep in thought. Of course, it was customary for the battle-brothers to observe the births of new patrician children, but their demeanour had unnerved him greatly, and he wasn't an easy man to unnerve. The captain had shown unnatural interest in each boy as they were born. He had scrutinised them with a glaring eye, and had even asked for Alexander to be passed to him, before handing him back after a while with a small smile. The man's grim long face would be the subject of the boys first nightmares, he was sure. He tried to shake the thoughts from his head. They passed by the Agora, the administrative centre of the city. The hundreds of windows set into its marble walls still glowed with light. The councillors were still in meeting.

Dominic seemed to read his thoughts. "There's no point in attending at this hour, sir. They'll be finishing soon anyway. You've earned yourself some rest."

Olympus looked up at the council building, like a troubled giant. "I have enemies in there, Dominic. When I'm not present, they spread their words and multiply."

Dominic stood with his hands behind his back, raising himself up and down on his toes. "Doesn't everyone? I could name a dozen men that have wronged you in some way and that you now consider an enemy. I could do the same for myself."

Olympus waved his hand dismissively. "That's different. _I_ know I won't do anything to them. But I have committed great wrongs that I wouldn't forgive if I was one of them."

"It is time to forget it, Olympus. It was long ago. A new stage in your life has begun. Parenthood! It is the best time of life, to be sure."

Olympus sighed. "I cannot forget because they will not. I'll never redeem my honour, Dominic. All I can do keep moving forward, and hope that my sons can do well, without ever knowing the truth." His eyes glistened in the moonlight. "Did you see how beautiful they were? They're my angels. They will be my true redemption."

They stood quietly for a while, listening to the dulled voices echoing from the Agora. Eventually Olympus yawned. "It is getting late, friend. I will see you at council in the morning?"

"You can count on it," Dominic said, as they shook hands and smiled.


	2. Chapter 1

Despite the fact that it sat on the very edge of the galaxy, Tauron was a warm and comfortable planet, left alone, for the most part, in it's far corner of the Imperium. The threat of Chaos was a thousand lightyears from the thoughts and gossips of the people, who bustled in the planet's cities, going about their daily lives blissfully unaware of the wars that plagued men elsewhere. They worked as potters and architects, farmers and blacksmiths, seamstresses and masons. Besides the small skirmishes between city-states, and the childish rivalries between the patricians, the planet could be considered a paradise of human living, especially as the Chaos crusade clenched it's grip tighter each day on Imperial worlds far away. The Brazen Minotaurs space marines quietly watched and governed them from their fortress-monastery, that they called the Parthenon. It was a mystery to the simple people of Tauron. Long ago they had promised not to go near it, but it was still spotted now and then, emerging on the horizon, by shepherds who ranged far from the fertile plains in search for a new place for their animals. It's squat shape seemed as sure as the mountains around it, and if they dared to shuffle close enough, they could sometimes spy the figures of the bronze-coloured space marines on a clear day. It was strange, but they always seemed to be practising with their weapons. The shepherds couldn't imagine why, there hadn't been a major war on Tauron for generations.

The brothers came to town on rare occasions to sell the skins of animals they had practised on or to buy food for their kind. They told the people that they were classified as a Feudal World, but they didn't understand what that meant. They told them that other men lived on other planets that were in much more danger than their own. The people knew that somewhere men fought against something dreadful called the Chaos, but they didn't know what that was either. Though, they did seem to understand the importance of doing their part in the fight for mankind. While each parent dreaded the moment their baby was examined by the captains, each accepted the fact that if their child was chosen, there was no argument against it. Or at least, most people did.

In the Agora, the political centre of Thessalon, the planet's largest city, one of the patricians stood at the podium. His name was Nicaeus, and he was an angry man at the best of times, and his eldest son had been chosen to join the battle-brothers. He was a lanky man, balding on top and with a fish-hook nose, and he didn't like Olympus, so Olympus had no time for him. Even so, Olympus was being forced to listen to the man shout about their rights and his desires to be free of the dictatorship that the battle-brothers held over them.

Nicaeus slammed his fist down for emphasis, startling Olympus from his daydreams.

"They sit on their high mountain and demand children from us like tributes! In the name of their holy war against Chaos. Well I, for one, have never seen even a trace of evidence of any Chaos, or xenos, as they call them, In all my time. And Emperor knows I am not a young man." He smiled thinly at the small round of chuckles that rippled the hall. "Yet we keep handing our young over to them at their request, taking their word for it that they are going to war. For all we know they could be using them for medical experiments, or torture. Who are we to know? I am not going to doom my child to that fate and I doubt any of you men want to, either. I am not going to stand for this any longer, gentlemen, and I urge you to join me in saying that we want the brothers to leave us alone!"  
There were cheers at this from the patricians in the hall that Olympus recognised had families or lovers. He shook his head at their stupidity. He looked down at Vesuvius and saw that he was clapping eagerly, throwing all of his flabby effort into it. He wondered why he was so eager to support the upstart politician. He didn't have a family, after all. That was something to investigate further when the court was over.

Olympus noticed with some disappointment that no-one was opposing Nicaeus, though he knew many of them were thinking the same as himself. He cleared his throat, and slowly the room looked at him.

"Some excellent points. So what do you suggest we do about it? Declare war?" Olympus said with a hint of a smirk. A couple of others sniggered, and the same number stared daggers into him. His usual enemies.

Nicaeus fumbled a little. "Well, nothing quite that drastic – we wouldn't stand a chance. But a petition couldn't hurt, could it? If enough of us sign it, maybe they will listen."

Olympus openly laughed at him. "You don't know them like I do, Nicaeus. A petition? Their minds only work in faith and war. If you sent them a petition, you'd be staring down the barrel of a bolter before you knew it."

"And how do _you_ know so much about the way they work, sir?" A patrician named Argos said, standing up. The whole Agora went achingly quiet, but Argos didn't seem to notice. He continued, ignoring the desperate glares from his fellow councillors. "Of course, we all know the answer. Do I dare say it?"

Olympus was already on his feet, his whole mass bristling. Dominic stood behind him.

"Sit down!" Dominic hissed desperately.

"I dare you to say it." Olympus said quietly, but the menace was unmistakable.

Argos grinned with relish. "I'm hardly that stupid. Kindly sit down, as your pet demands, before this gets out of hand." He turned away. "Bring me that petition and let me sign it."

The paper was brought to him by a slave boy and then passed around his advisers and fellow councillors. By the time it was back at the front and Nicaeus peered at it, more than a quarter of the names in the room were on the paper.

Olympus scowled at the podium. "I shouldn't let them wind me up like that."

"No, but we all understand how powerful emotion can be. Especially regret." Dominic said. Olympus looked away.

"I don't regret what I did, Dominic. You should know that much."

Dominic went quiet. His lordship was impossible to reason with once his emotions were stirred.

The court carried on and Olympus remained quiet, his pride wounded. Other matters were brought up, nothing of much interest, and nearly all relating to raising or lowering trade tariffs they planned to charge the other city-states to use their market. Olympus was still brooding over why Vesuvius had been so eager to support Nicaeus. He had likely been bribed, he decided, which meant one less potiential ally and another potential enemy. The number of supporters for Argos in the court had grown dramatically recently. No doubt Nicaeus and Argos had planned to draw him in today from the very start. He sighed, and whispered his thoughts to Dominic, who waved his hand dismissively. "You're being ridiculous, sir. Argos was simply taking advantage of an opportunity to insult you. Its his only defence, because he knows you're the better councillor, and everyone would vote for you if he let them forget what you did."

"That sounds like honey-dripped flattery to me, Dominic." Olympus said with a smile.

"Only partially. The truth of it is that you're a good man, and many more councillors would recognise it if he would let it go." Dominic said with a sly grin. "I think this is nearly wrapped up now," Dominic said, gesturing to the boring old man who was just tottering down from the podium. The sun was setting outside and casting honey-coloured rays through the square windows, and the councillors looked restless and ready to leave. It had been ten summers and winters since Olympus's boys had been born and the man's neat beard was breaking out in wisps of grey from the stress of raising them. His mind wandered fondly to thoughts of them and he smiled to himself. He bet that they were doing something productive right now. Quintus would be reading, as he liked to do, and Leviticus and Alexander would be out playing sport with the other boys. The assembly was nearly finished now, and then he would be able to go home to see them.

"I think you may be right." Olympus agreed, stretching in his seat. He adjusted his tunic, making the gold toggles clink. He watched Vesuvius rise from his seat, a tremendous effort because of the man's weight. "Come on, we're leaving," Olympus said.

He followed Vesuvius out of the large double doors and just managed to catch him on the steps.

"Vesuvius!" He greeted him with a friendly smile. They shook hands.

"Olympus, my old friend! Those words between you and Argos had me at the edge of my seat. I half expected fists to go flying."

Olympus smiled again. "Oh no, I'd never let it go that far. Not within full sight of the court at any rate." The men shared a brief chuckle. "So, why did you pledge your vote for Nicaeus?"

Vesuvius winced as if he had been expecting the question. "I thought we might end up on this. As stupid as it sounds, I agreed with a lot of the things he spoke about."

"But-"

"Yes, I know. It's futile. But we have to try. The right to one's own children is one of the most basic, I believe. It's worth fighting for. And he was right. what do the brothers do to benefit us?"

Olympus just swallowed his words and nodded. "I suppose the points do have merit. But either way the brothers would crush us if we rebelled."

Vesuvius glanced around quickly, flustered. "Hush! No-one said anything about rebellion! By the Emperor!" He exclaimed and made a fumbled sign of the Emperor with his flabby hands. "We just want to let our opinions be known."

Olympus made his excuses, claiming it was time he headed home.

"Are you sure? We're dining well tonight – bought a huge turkeybug carcass just for the occasion. You're more than welcome to attend."

"No, thankyou, I should really be getting back to my boys."

Vesuvius flustered again. "Are you entirely sure? Your presence is greatly anticipated." He showed Olympus the guest list on a scroll. Many of the city's great councillors were going to be attending. It was a tempting offer, but Olympus felt uneasy. He held up a hand.

"I'm quite sure. Good evening," Olympus said with a smile and left with Dominic in a hurry. Dominic and Olympus looked at each other when he was out of earshot. "What was that about?" Dominic asked, looking troubled. "Some big names were attending that banquet! You could've made some allies."

"Something is going on. He was very jumpy, and he's not like that usually." Dominic tried to protest but Olympus cut him off. "I know how to read emotions. I've been doing it my whole life, by the Emperor. Where have the boys been today?" He asked, his deep eyes widening.

"They were left playing in the woods just outside my manor, at Amelia's request. She's been there watching them all day. Why?"

Olympus's gut was churning. "We've got to go. Now."

Quintus burst through the bush and hid behind it, his brothers close behind him. They clustered together and waited for any sound of their pursuers. Silence.

"Do you want some help there?" Quintus asked his brother when he saw the blood dripping from his nose.

"What can _you _do, Quin?" Alex asked his brother sceptically.

Quin visibly inflated. "I happen to know that this bush has very absorbant leaves. I've read about it. Here," he gave him a leaf that he swiftly covered his nose with. Alex gave him a thumbs up in thanks and Quin smiled.

"Do y-" Quin was cut off.

"Shhh!" Leviticus hissed sharply.

"What did you hear?" Alex asked quickly.

"Listen."

Sure enough, they could hear the laughter of the boys, cutting sharp over the rustle of leaves all around them.

"I can hear them." Quin said. "Why can't they leave us alone?"

"Because they're jealous, I think. Because we've got our daddy and they have theirs." Levi whispered, making the other boys snicker quietly.

They heard a swish and crunch sound and went deadly silent.

"...What was that?" Quin said.

They heard it again.

"I don't know. It sounds like a stick." Alex whispered.

They listened again and they heard the sound of the stick being swung at branches.

"They've got sticks!" Quin hissed. "They're gonna hurt us!"

The boys shrunk back further into the bushes, terrified.

"We need sticks too, then." Alex said decidedly. The others looked at him. "Well, we need to make it fair!"

On Levi's word they turned and kept running away from the direction where the swinging sound came from, deeper into the woods. When they reached a big enough tree they began scouring the undergrowth beneath for suitable weapons.

"I've got one!" Alex shouted triumphantly, but Quin took it off him. He shattered it over his knee.

"That stick's rotten. If you'd used that it would have broke as soon as you hit anything." He picked up a healthy looking branch and handed it to his brother, who was scowling. "This one is much better," he said with a smile.

When all three of the boys were armed, they each crouched behind a bush, glancing back at each other. They followed Levi's hand signals that they'd all decided on. He pointed his finger forward. They all shuffled up to the next bush and listened for the sound of the other boys. Alex's upper lip was crusting with blood and it stirred the other boys in a primal way, feeling a need to protect their twin brother.

When they heard the swish and crunch again Levi pointed three fingers, suggesting they fan out. Levi moved forward while Quin went left and lost sight of Alex, who went to the right. They all gingerly crept forward into the bushes. Quin moved forward to another bush ahead of him, a large red-leaved plant that would give him fantastic cover. Peering through the branches, he could see ahead of him that there was a massive clearing in the trees, where all that grew was long pale grass and a few shrubs, and right in the middle the other boys were sitting around a fire that was just starting and letting off a lot of smoke due to the burning grass. There were just two of them still, the brothers Medina and Bandos. They were both in their early teens and a lot bigger than the three brothers, and Quin wasn't afraid to admit that he was scared. Bandos was sitting on the ground with his flint, starting to flick the fire into life, while the other was using his stick to cut down grass and shrub to burn. The sun was low in the sky and cast eerie shadows from the trees, making abnormally long shadows on the floor in the dusk light. The fire created a glow of orange in the middle of the plain hat was impossible to miss. Quin glanced around to check where his brothers were but found that they were all out of view. He was alone.

He crept forward, pulling the branches of the red-leaved bush aside so that he didn't make a noise. He crept along on his belly, holding his stick by his side like a sword, and he grinned despite himself. He imagined that he was one of the actors in the amphitheatre, re-enacting some ancient battle from the times when the men first arrived on the planet and had to subdue the Xenos that lived there. He wondered whether dad would be proud of him. There was no way to know, dad was unreadable to him.

Alex erupted from the undergrowth on the opposite side of the clearing then, the disturbed leaves breaking the silence like shattered glass. He howled a warcry and ran at the boys with no fear, waving his stick. "What is he doing?!" Quin muttered out loud.

Levi watched as Alex ran in and swung his branch Bandos's head, knocking him over with a vicious hit. Medina had seen the attack coming and swerved, lifting the boy off his feet. He picked up Bandos's stick and struck Alex on the head, and he went limp. Quin roared and burst from his well-hidden spot, wielding his branch like a club. Bandos was back on his feet now, and the two older boys stood around their fire and their prisoner. As Levi emerged from the bushes too, Bandos lifted Alex and held his feet over the fire, making Quin scream.

"Put my brother down!" He shouted but the older boy just cackled.

"He shouldn't have hit me. Now I'll kill him." Bandos grinned harshly.

"Why are you doing this?" Levi asked sensibly, and Bandos blinked.

"You know nothing. You're just a child." Medina answered.

"Then put my brother down. He's just a child too. We never did anything to you." Levi said calmly. Truthfully his stomach churned with fear and anger, but he kept it well hidden.

"Your father is a bad man." Medina said with bared teeth. His lank hair had fallen over his face and in the growing dark he looked like a ghoul or a savage.

"Don't say that!" Quin shouted, on the verge of tears.

"Why not? It's true. You don't know the secrets he's hidden from you." Medina said.

Quin leapt forward and smashed his stick into the boy's stomach, making him double over gasping for air. Bandos dropped Alex into the fire and Quin tackled him to the ground in a flurry of bites and punches, abandoning the weapon in favour of his own hate.

Levi dragged his brother out of the fire and lay panting over him.

"Thanks," Alex managed to whisper. Levi said it was nothing.

But Medina was back up and he dragged Levi off of his brother. He shoved his face into the hot flames. The coals pressed against his skin. But the flames licked at Medina's arm and he fell back, patting at the fire on his clothes. When the pressure was released on his neck, Levi jumped back from the fire like a coiled spring, but the damage was done.

The shout of a man, deep and guttural compared the voices of the boys, made them all freeze where they were. Quin grinned when he saw Olympus standing there, a thick sword at his waist and two hoplite guards with him clad in heavy bronze breastplates and helmets. He ran to hug him, but the big man ignored him.

"What's going on here?" He asked with a voice like thunder.

"These boys attacked us, father. They tried to burn Alex and Levi," Quin said, sobbing slightly.

Olympus's gaze dropped to his two sons who lay panting next to the fire. When he saw the burns on Levi's face he snarled and picked up a stick as if meaning to strike the older boys himself. It took great control to level his emotions again and speak calmly.

"You are the sons of Argos, yes?" He asked. The two boys nodded their heads quickly, looking very small. "Go home. Tomorrow, I will punish you as _I _see fit. Your father will have no place in it or I will have his patrician title removed. Tell him such. Go!" He hit Bandos across the head with the back of his hand as the boy ran past him. When they were gone from the trees, he let out a great heaving sigh.

"Come on, boys. We're going home."


End file.
